


at your fingertips

by karasunovolleygays



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Very minor Current Manga Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:41:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24029038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunovolleygays/pseuds/karasunovolleygays
Summary: Did Wakatoshi being voluntold to do an image makeover make satori.exe stop working?...possibly.
Relationships: Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 166





	at your fingertips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tententendo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tententendo/gifts).



> Hallo Sammmmmmm! This was an experience, to say the least. I don't think any of our interests matched up in the slightest, so I Wung It and here we are. Kou assures me it doesn't suck, so I hope it brings you happiness.

The restaurant smelled like burnt french fries, and it made Satori’s nose wrinkle. The surfacing on the tables was worn off in a lot of places and completely chipped off in others. However, he was more than willing to endure it for the company he planned to keep.

For the first time in years, he was going to see Wakatoshi in person and not through some sort of app or streaming service.

They chose this venue, an American-style diner, more out of nostalgia than desire to eat greasy food. It had been a popular landing spot for the Shiratorizawa Volleyball Club after practices because of their low prices and killer milkshakes. 

Their old table of choice sat unoccupied in the far corner of the dining room, and Satori grinned and waved at the server as he took up residence. 

He checked his phone one, two, three times to look at the clock. It was still five minutes before the set meeting time, and Wakatoshi was almost painfully punctual, arriving just one minute before the allotted time. It would’ve been less weird if he just showed up a minute or two late. 

Right at 7:59, the squeaky door opened, and Satori’s breath caught just a little bit. It wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last the sight of Wakatoshi caught him off guard. This time, however, it was for a very different reason.

Wakatoshi was growing a beard, and Satori  _ really _ liked it.

Waggling his fingers in greeting, Satori propped his chin on his other palm and took in the sight as long as he could. The term ‘glow-up’ was tossed around frequently those days — far more than it should have been — but in Ushijima’s case, it was absolutely correct.

In high school, his weird, awkward best friend had been hard-bodied and handsome, and most of the smiles he managed with that resting bitchface of his were for a precious few. Satori was delighted he got to be part of that group. 

This Wakatoshi, however, was just plain  _ hot. _ Powerful musculature strained against a cartoon character t-shirt, well cut jeans hugged narrow hips, and a couple weeks’ growth of beard graced his chin.

“Well, well, Wakatoshi-kun. Going for a new look?” Satori’s silly smile lingered.

Shrugging, Wakatoshi took the opposite bench. “How are you?”

“Better now.” Satori crossed his arms and leaned closer. “I like the beard. It’s really rugged.”

Wakatoshi’s fingers grazed the dark whiskers on his cheek and frowned. “Is it? I let Hoshiumi talk me into changing my look. He said I’d get better sponsor spots if I did. No idea why.”

Satori could only roll his eyes. “It’s because you’re hot, you dork.” He couldn’t hold back a giggle when Wakatoshi’s face reddened. “What? I can’t look at a very nice set of biceps and swoon?”

“That’s not what I meant.” His mouth twisted into a harsh line. From years of practice, Satori knew it was a thinking face and not a bad one. “I didn’t know anyone saw me like that.”

Jaw slack, Satori gaped at his oldest and best friend. “Have you been living in a pod or something? Half the women in this country would climb you like a tree if they had the chance. A fair few of the guys, too.”

Wakatoshi’s flush deepened. “I just play volleyball. I never pay attention to the other stuff.”

A flutter emanated from Satori’s belly while he looked upon Wakatoshi, a blushing specimen who didn’t even realize he was one. “Ah, crap, I am in so much trouble.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

With that, they turned back to their meals. Satori told Wakatoshi about the banalities of everyday life they had shared many times before, and Wakatoshi listened to every word of it. 

Full of greasy food he would no doubt be punished later for eating, Satori leaned on Wakatoshi’s shoulder as they meandered out of the restaurant. Nearby, the park where their team had run countless barf-encrusted laps in the name of conditioning stood nearly empty as dusk neared. They tucked onto the rubberized walking track out of habit, albeit at a slower pace.

“So, uh, what’s new in the hunky volleyball ikemen scene?” Satori blurted, relishing the choke of surprise it elicited. 

“The what with the what?” Wakatoshi stopped and stared into the distance, face twisted in confusion. “I know what all those words mean, but not in that order.”

An indulgent smile slipped over Satori’s lips. “It means you’re a sports heartthrob, and I’m asking how you’re doing in that respect.”

“Ah.” Wakatoshi colored a little, but not nearly as much as the previous time. “I think I’m getting used to the idea now that I’ve thought about it a little. If someone wants to look, let them look. There’s only one person I care if they’re looking at me. Nobody else is important.”

Satori gasped. “All that out of ten minutes of conversation? You’ve got your shit figured out that easy?” His brows shot up when Wakatoshi chuckled into his hand, the corners of his eyes crinkling with mirth, and his heart beat a little bit faster. “What?”

“Just thought it was funny you didn’t get it.” His free hand slotted with Satori’s, and Wakatoshi gave it a brisk squeeze. “If you were still behind the curve, I don’t give a damn who thinks what about me except for you.”

Satori’s eyes widened, and a crooked grin creased his lips. “Sometimes I forget we’re both idiots.” His fingers threaded with Wakatoshi’s, and their shoulders bumped together. “I assume that means you like me.”

Wakatoshi nodded. “If you mean in a ‘like that’ capacity, then yes.”

“So this should be the point where I admit that I like you, too, and I  _ really _ want to sink my fingers into that beard before I die.”

“Oh.” 

Sliding his arms around Wakatoshi’s waist, Satori parroted, “Yeah, ‘oh’.”

The bristles of Wakatoshi’s beard tickled against Satori’s chin as their mouths met, and the rest of him shivered at the sensation of long, lean, hard muscles pressing against him from shoulder to thigh. 

His eyes still hung closed when their lips parted, smile lingering as their foreheads rested together. Finally, his hands crept up and dragged across the expanse of Wakatoshi’s whiskered jawline. “Oh, yeah. That’s the good stuff.”

Wakatoshi snorted. “If you say so.” 

Satori tutted and clapped Wakatoshi’s cheek. “Well, think of it this way. Who’s the most attractive guy you know?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” 

“Humor me.”

Wakatoshi’s forehead creased in thought, and finally he admitted, “Oikawa.”

A laugh choked out of Satori’s throat, and when he caught his breath, he wheezed, “I won’t tell anyone you said that, I promise.”

Sighing, Wakatoshi nodded. “I appreciate that.”

Amusement still teasing his lips into a smirk, Satori asked, “Now if Oikawa had a beard like yours, would you or would you not want to get your hands all over it?”

A myriad of expressions maybe three people on earth could read with any accuracy flitted across Wakatoshi’s features until comprehension lit in his eyes. “I think I understand. I wouldn’t, though. I would much rather pet your beard.”

A peal of laughter exploded from Satori until he could barely breathe. “Has anyone ever told you how delightfully blunt you are, Wakatoshi-kun?”

“Blunt, yes. Delightful, not so much.”

Satori draped his arms over Wakatoshi’s shoulders and grinned. “Well, you are to me.” His lips sought out Wakatoshi’s for a long, lazy kiss.

The two of them lingered until the darkness chased them back to the streets hand in hand.

As they strolled back toward Satori’s apartment, where Wakatoshi would be staying the next few days while in town, he couldn’t help but think that the long period between face to face interactions was going to be a thing of the past.

After all, who could keep their hands off of a beard like that? Satori had no intention of trying.


End file.
